Dungeons and Dragons - Nothing Else Matters
by Angelustatt
Summary: Set in the original world of Krahn. Flynn Sunstrider has always watched out for his little brother, Renn. But when the young brothers are taken captive by Orcs and made to fight daily for 'entertainment', the protectiveness Flynn has for his brother starts to take a demanding toll on him. Renn faces becoming what he hates to save the only person he has left in the world.


_**Never opened myself this way**__**  
**__**Life is ours, we live it our way**__**  
**__**All these words I don't just say**__**  
**__**And nothing else matters - Metallica**_

Nestled in the depths of a small valley, the warm glow of camp fires offered little respite from the inky blackness of the surrounding night. Twenty or so rough and ready huts formed from trees that had been hacked down and covered with stretched animals skins dotted the clearing, providing meagre shelter for their occupants. The camp was silent, save for the occasional snorting pig-like laughter of a handful of Orc warriors sitting around a low fire, warming their hands against the bitter wind. Winter was well on its way as the nights became colder and trees dropped their leaves, standing as barren as the stomachs of the prisoners huddled in various cages throughout the encampment. Young and old, men and women and children – there was no consideration for their needs or thoughts of mercy. They were merely biding their time until their deaths or until they spilled blood to survive. The truest form of blood sport they would ever know.

In the corner of one battered metal cage, Renn Sunstrider was curled up on his side against the bars. A small built boy of only twelve years, he tried to tuck his hands into his armpits for warmth as he shivered against the cold. His eyes were puffy and tired from crying yet again. It's all he seemed to do now.

Cry. Scream. Grieve.

For what he had lost. For what he could still lose.

"_Pick it up and we'll try again, son." _

Renn screwed his eyes shut as his father's voice came to him. He could see his father, Geralt standing there, hand outstretched to help him up off the ground as Renn's cheeks burned with shame at being knocked down so easily. He'd over extended his reach and with a simple sweep at his ankles with one foot, Geralt had taken his feet out from under him. Laughter had burst from the crowd of boys surrounding them until it was silenced by a stern look from his father.

"_Come on, Renn. Give me your hand. Pick up your sword and try again." _

"_No." Renn shook his head, ashamed to lift his head and have his father see the hot tears shining in his eyes. _

"_No?"_

"_It's…it's too heavy. It hurts my wrists. I don't want to fight with it. I'm not like you and Flynn. Why do I have to do this?"Renn asked, wincing inwardly at how petulant he sounded. But he was tired. It was hot out here in the sun and his arms were aching from swinging a sword that felt heavier than he was. _

_Geralt stepped back with a weary sigh. "Because, Renn. The world is not the way you seem to think it is. It's not sunshine and warmth. It's cold and it's bleak at times. It will rip you apart before you can draw breath. You need to understand that. You need to be able to defend yourself. I won't always be here. Your brother won't always be here. You have to be able to do this."_

_Renn looked up then, seeing the look in his father's eyes. The frustration, the disappointment that Renn didn't take to the sword as easily as Flynn had. Anger sparked deep inside Renn as he looked past his shoulder to see his older brother standing with the other boys, imploring him to get up and do as their father wanted. Not anger at Flynn though. Renn could never be angry with Flynn. It was anger aimed at his father for insisting that they needed to fight. Needed to join the militia and protect the village because it was their sacred duty. _

_What was the point in sacred duty if it crushed the soul within? Renn didn't want his brother to become a hardened warrior like his father and the others in the milita. Men with haunted eyes and a weariness in their soul that seemed to carry like a weight on their shoulders. Always waiting for the next fight, always on guard. _

_It wasn't a life. It was an existence. Renn wanted more from life. More for his brother. He wanted them to have life, love, laughter. He wanted them to live. Really live. _

_Getting to his feet, Renn bent down and picked up his sword, grimacing as his arm and shoulder muscles burned in protest. He moved into the stance his father had been teaching him. His weight on the balls of his feet, arms relaxed, sword held before him. _

"_Now…" Geralt said, lunging forward with a speed that seemed impossible, his sword flashing out and down to strike at Renn. _

_Renn flung his sword up, blocking the blow as the vibration clanged through the blades. With a cry of pain, Renn dropped his sword and stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and sitting down hard. He held his wrist tightly to his chest, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks as the pain seemed to throb with each beat of his heart. Laughter once again was filling his ears as the other boys all brayed and stumbled, clutching at each other to stay upright. _

"_Pick up your sword and do it again." _

"_No…no, I don't want to."Renn cried, feeling his face filling with heat and shame. _

"_Renn…" Geralt growled, his frustration evident in his tone. _

"_Father, maybe we should try Renn with something easier? I have that short sword you gave me last summer. It's nicely balanced and lighter than the long sword Renn has right now. How about we start Renn on that tomorrow? I'll start him on the basics myself." Flynn offered, stepping forward and placing himself between his father and brother. _

_Geralt studied his sons for a moment, before he sighed and nodded, running a hand over his face. "Fine. Tomorrow, first light? I want you showing your brother the basics. Go get washed up, both of you. We're done for today."_

"_Thank you, Father." Flynn smiled. He turned and reached down, pulling Renn to his feet and clapping him gently on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll race you to the river. If you beat me? You can have my share of pie father brought back from old mother Grace for us." _

_Renn stood there for a moment, surprised by Flynn's offer, before he turned and bolted towards the river. He was almost out of the village and half way to the river before he heard his brother's sure footsteps rushing up behind him and laughter exploded out of Renn as Flynn overtook him. Even with a headstart, Renn would never be able to outrun his brother. He was always too quick off the mark._

"_Looks like you only get one piece of pie…"Flynn laughed over his shoulder, his grin wide and beaming as both boys raced for the water…._

"Here…you need to eat."

Renn felt his brother's hand on his leg, gently shaking it to gain his attention. He tried to shrug away, shaking his head. "No. It's yours, Flynn. You earned it."

"Yeah, I did. And now I'm giving you some. So take it and eat, okay? Come on, Renn…I need you to eat. Please?" Flynn asked quietly.

Renn rolled over and pushed himself upright, pulling his knees up against his chest. A small metal bowl was pressed into his hands by Flynn, who nodded at him to eat. Renn looked down at the meagre portion of greasy grey looking meat and potato that was swimming in a watery gravy. A hard stale chunk of bread sat on the edge of the plate. "Flynn, you've hardly touched this.."

"Sure I have. I've eaten most of it, so go ahead and have the rest."

Renn frowned, knowing his brother was lying. Flynn had been lying for weeks now to him about how much he was eating. He thought that Renn couldn't see it, the shadows growing under his eyes, the way his cheeks were drawing in, the tiredness when he moved. Renn knew his brother like he knew his own heart and it was obvious that he was suffering. He was slowing down. Slowing down would get Flynn killed.

And it was all Renn's fault.

Because he was too much of a coward to kill someone. Too weak to take a life to save his own. It didn't matter how much they beat him.

And beat him they did. Renn could feel the fresh wounds on his back even now where he had been whipped that morning. His back felt hot and tight, raw and bleeding. Infection would have set in days ago if it wasn't for Flynn taking care of him. His brother had begged the Orc guard for some salt and had mixed it with the water ration he had been given, so he could bathe Renn's wounds and disinfect them. Renn had shared his own water ration with Flynn in return, even though Flynn refused to take more than a sip for himself.

Renn's stomach rumbled as he looked at the food before him. He was so damn hungry, but could he really eat this? Could he really take another meal from his brother? How was it fair? Why was Flynn always so ready to give everything to him when Renn wasn't deserving of it?

Renn had never known his mother…she'd been called to join the Great Maker on the day Renn was born. Her loss was strange to him. How could you miss what you had never known? But it was through seeing how her death affected Flynn and their father, that Renn felt the sharp ache of loss.

Now his father had joined the Great Maker too, cut down before his time by the same Orcs that were keeping Renn and Flynn captive now. Would Flynn join them next? Did the Great Maker want all his family? Renn didn't have any answers for that…any prayer he had ever offered up seemed to go unanswered.

As his stomach rumbled once more, Renn finally gave into his hunger, snatching up the bread and dipping into the watery gravy before he took a bite. Almost biting his fingers in the rush to get the food into his mouth. He went to dip the last bite of the bread into the bowl again and for the briefest moment, caught Flynn watching him. There was a hunger in his eyes - a longing – before it was gone in the next heartbeat and Flynn was looking out across the cage at the other prisoners with them.

The food instantly seemed to lose whatever pitiful flavour it had, turning to ash in Renn's mouth. He put the bread down and slowly reached out with the bowl towards his brother. "Flynn…"

"Renn…I told you. I've already eaten and you haven't. I'll force feed you if I have to."

Flynn turned, glaring over his shoulder at Renn before the anger seemed to melt away into tired concern. "Please…eat. For me."

Renn nodded, feeling tears burning his eyes as he tried to blink them away. He picked up the bread again and used it to mop up what gravy he could before he plunged his fingers into the food and scooped the rest of it into his mouth.

With the food gone, Renn tossed the bowl out through the bars and pulled his knees up to his chest again. He sensed his brother shift and a moment later, Flynn was beside him. The boys sat shoulder to shoulder in silence. It felt easy, just sitting there in silence. Renn didn't want to talk about anything. What would he say? That he was sorry for being weak? That he was sorry for letting his brother down as much as he was? That he hated himself for not wanting to have blood on his hands? But it was okay for Flynn to kill to keep Renn alive? Of course it wasn't okay. Renn's weakness, his cowardice, was destroying Flynn in ways that their father's training never would have.

Renn felt weak. Scared. And he absolutely hated himself for it.

**XXDungeons and DragonsXX**

The following morning, the sun kissed the horizon as the camp slowly came to life. Orcish curse words filled the air along with laughter and taunts thrown back and forth as the Orc warriors crawled from their huts.

For Renn, the day started like every other day since they had been captured. He was marched from the cages with Flynn, along with the other prisoners and taken to a roped off arena just behind the encampment. Makeshift weapons were thrown in and the prisoners were expected to warm up for main event later in the day. Throughout the arena, the prisoners snatched up rusty, battered swords or jagged bone daggers and prepared themselves for the coming fight. Swinging and slashing at the air as they stretched their worn and tired muscles, going through the motions of battle and praying they would be strong enough or fast enough to survive.

Except for Renn.

He refused to pick up his weapon, kicking it away from him and dropping down to tuck into a ball, wishing he was anywhere but there. It seemed like barely a heartbeat passed before he heard the Orcish shouts and braced himself for what was coming. Huge clawed hands grabbed at him roughly and shook him, barking at him to pick up the sword.

Renn stared at them blankly, feeling as though he was withdrawing into himself like turtle into its shell. Behind him, he could hear Flynn yelling at him.

"Pick up the fucking sword, Renn! You have to do this!"

The Orc guard who held Renn in his grasp lifted the boy in the air and shook him roughly as he barked again in Orcish, then dropped him with a snarl of disgust. As Renn landed on his feet, he was backhanded hard enough that it spun him on the spot, blood spraying from his lips. He hit the ground hard, his head spinning as the world reeled and danced in his vision. Rough hands grabbed at him again, dragging him to the edge of the arena where he was tied to one of the thick tree stumps that had been hacked down to form the posts for the rope fence. His shirt was ripped open, exposing his back to the air and Renn tried to steady his breathing as his heart began pounding in his chest.

There was a crack as the whip snapped through the air and moment later, Renn felt the first bite of the leather into his skin. It split open like ripe fruit as Renn arched his back and screamed. Warm blood dribbled down his spine and then there was another crack…and another. Each blow echoed by a scream from Renn until finally he sagged in the ropes, barely aware of anything but the smell of blood and the agony in every breath he drew.

The sun crept higher in the sky, the morning passing in a blurry world of pain that offered no relief. Renn could hear the prisoners being ordered around, divided into groups for battle. He tried to turn and look over his shoulder. Trying to find where Flynn was, his heart pounding again now that he knew the time for the blood battles to begin was here. The arena was a cacophony of noise as the Orcs gathered and jockeyed for the best vantage points to see the action.

Renn heard heavy footsteps approach before a dagger sliced through the ropes holding his wrists. He was grabbed roughly by one arm and marched to the arena where he could see Flynn already fighting, moving with a grace and fluidity that spoke of their father's lessons. Two bodies lay at his feet and as much as Renn hated the thought of that blood on his brother's hands…it was far better than the alternative.

"Fight! Fight now…or die!" The words were guttural and broken. A bastard mixture of Orcish and common that sounded like they were spoken around a mouthful of broken rocks. Renn was lifted into the air and held above the Orc guard, before he was thrown with ease over the ropes to land near the middle of the arena. The air punched out of his lungs and for a moment, the world almost faded to black.

"Get up! Renn! You've got to get up!"

Renn coughed, tasting dirt and blood in his mouth. He lifted his head and found Flynn standing over him, trying to offer him a hand up while he clutched a rusty sword in his other hand. Renn grabbed his head and let Flynn pull him to his feet. He wavered unsteadily but found his balance after a moment.

"Get behind me and stay at my back. You hearing me, little brother? Stay at my back!"

"I heard you." Renn mumbled, moving to obey as he watched a young woman running towards him with a spear clutched in her hands. "FLYNN!"

Flynn locked his free hand on Renn's arm and yanked him out of the way of the woman's attack. The spear slid across Flynn's stomach as he tried to avoid her attack, already pivoting as he brought his sword around. The blade slashed down across her back, blood spraying from the wound as she screamed and went down, trying to crawl away. In two short steps, Flynn reached her and stabbed his sword down through her spine and into the dirt beneath her.

Renn could see blood on Flynn now, a thin red line spilling through his brother's hands as Flynn backed away and moved into a defensive stance to brace for his next attacker. Flynn's hair was damp with sweat, his skin pale and making the blood even more scarlet than Renn could have ever imagined.

His chest heaving with a breathless mixture of fear and andrenaline, Renn tried to ghost his brother and stay at his back as he'd been told to. This was how it had been for weeks. Renn would shadow his brother until they were the last standing…and then he would be beaten again for refusing to pick up a weapon. Renn knew that his time was rapidly running out. Every fight he refused was one more time that he expected to be run through or have his throat slit by an Orc guard for refusing to obey. Fine, let it end that way then. Renn would sooner die than be forced to fight his brother.

But those weeks had taken their toll on Flynn and as Renn watched his brother cut down an old man, he could see the exhaustion that was setting a fine tremble into Flynn's arms and legs. There was no time to allow himself to feel relief that yet another opponent had failed to take his brother down…another attacker was already rushing in to fill the old man's place.

This was no inexperienced woman or old man….this was a boy maybe no more than a year or more older than Renn himself. His arms were thick and muscular, his face hungry for a kill. Renn knew this boy. His name was Bevan. His family had been simple farm folk who had always traded meat and vegetables at the village market. Bevan spent his day pushing plows and harvesting crops. He may not have been taught the skill of how to fight…but he had the strength of a man already and the club he was wielding in his hand was already bright with blood and bone matter.

Renn held his breath, moving in time with Flynn like a shadow and praying to the Great Maker to keep his brother safe.

Flynn threw up his sword and blocked the first initial attack with some difficulty, finding the blow was heavier than he had expected. Renn found himself screaming his brother's name as Flynn stumbled. His back foot sank into the dirt, throwing Flynn's balance off as he fell to one knee. Sheer instinct saved him as he shifted sideways and the club sailed through the empty air where Flynn's skull would have been seconds before. The move was costly though, landing Flynn on the ground prone in front of Bevan.

Renn felt like the world slowed down to a crawl. All he could hear was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. All he could see in his mind's eye was the club arcing around and swinging back down towards Flynn where it would cave in his skull and that would be it.

It would be over.

Flynn would be dead.

A guttural sound, somewhere between sheer rage and a wounded animal erupted from Renn as he rushed forward. He bent down as he was moving, snatching a sword from the dead hand of the old man before he launched himself past Flynn's prone body. Renn saw Bevan's eyes widen as he realised the mistake he had made. Before the farm boy could react, Renn drove the sword through his body, pushing the blade all the way to the hilt. He stared straight into Bevan's eyes as the boy gasped, blood spilling over his lips and spraying into Renn's face as Bevan coughed.

"I'm….I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…." Renn whispered as he wrenched the sword free and saw the light leave Bevan's eyes. The boy had barely hit the ground before Renn was standing guard over Flynn in the very stance his father had drummed into him since he was old enough to lift a weapon. Eyeing every other person in the arena as a threat to his brother, even as he clutched his sword with trembling hands.

Flynn pushed himself to his feet, steadying his weapon in his hand. "Renn…at my back, little brother."

Renn complied without hesitation, the brothers now back to back against all comers. He could see his opponents before him. A woman wielding a dagger and a boy only a few years shy of Renn's age, clutching a broken sword.

"ENOUGH!"

The roar cut through the air and instantly, the shouts and cheers of the Orc crowd were silenced as they parted down the middle to allow the Orc Chieftain to approach the arena.

Renn dropped to his knees and retched, throwing up nothing but bile. He could feel Flynn's hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze of reassurance. He nodded shakily, finding his gaze sliding over towards Bevan lying in the dirt near them. Bevan…who had once sprayed milk out his nose at one of Renn's jokes. Bevan…who had once challenged Flynn to an apple bobbing contest during the harvest festival. They had known this boy and yet he had tried to kill Flynn like it meant nothing. A boy who'd never held a weapon in his life.

Renn retched again, his body shaking now from the exertion of trying to empty a stomach with nothing in it.

Orders were barked in Orcish again. Renn looked up to see guards storming towards them. Fear exploded deep within as he tried to scramble backwards, only to find Flynn there, enfolding him into his arms from behind and holding Renn close as he whispered in his ear.

"Easy, I've got you. It's okay. We'll face this together."

Renn nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. Had he screwed up again? Hadn't he done what they'd asked of him? He didn't want Flynn punished because of him. He didn't want his brother killed cause of him. What was going to happen to them?

The Orc guards snatched Renn from Flynn's grasp, pushing him to his feet before they grabbed Flynn in turn and shoved both boys towards the edge of the arena. Renn couldn't stop shaking; walking in step with his brother and telling himself that whatever happened here and now…they would face it together.

The Chieftain's hut loomed before them, brightly lit inside by braziers and torches on the walls. As the boys were thrust inside, they could see all manner of skins adorning the walls and floors, both animal and human. An assortment of heads on pikes lined one side of the hut and the smell was awful, hitting the boys like a brick wall. Renn choked and swallowed thickly, barely managing not to throw up again as Flynn gripped his arm and squeezed it to reassure him. Renn glanced over at his brother and saw that Flynn was barely standing on his own. One hand was wrapped around his stomach, stained with blood. There were numerous slash marks crossing his arms and back, his right eye swollen and bruised from a blow that Flynn had obviously not seen coming.

A shudder ran through Renn. It had been too close tonight. His brother wasn't invincible and he'd been giving everything to protect Renn. How much longer until there was nothing left to give?

Sitting on a throne made of bones, the Orc Chieftain waved the boys forward and appraised them with a critical eye. He was a huge brutish creature with large tusks jutting out upwards between his lips. Leaning forward and resting one huge hand on his knee, the Chieftain spoke.

"You amused me tonight. Do it again and you'll be rewarded. You'll keep your heads. " His words were spoken in perfect common, although his deep Orc accent was thick as he swept a hand towards the rotting heads lining his hut. "Deal?"

"Deal." Flynn replied instantly.

"No!" Renn shouted suddenly, eliciting a look of surprise from the Chieftain as Flynn turned to look at his brother incredulously.

"Renn…what the fuck-"

"He's hurt! My brother's hurt." Renn pressed on, ignoring Flynn as he kept his gaze on the Chieftain. His stomach was somersaulting, his heart thundering in his ears as he clenched his fists and tried not to show how badly he was shaking.

"The boy's slow. Tired. He should've been faster." The Chieftain sneered dismissively.

"Because he's hurt! He's hungry!" Renn argued. "Please….Give me some healing for him. Some poultices to keep infection at bay. A real meal for him….and I'll do whatever you want. Kill whoever you want."

"Whoever? This morning you wouldn't pick up a sword, now you're giving orders?" The Chieftain growled. " I should peel the skin from your face, whelp!"

"Not orders. Requests. Please…some healing and good food. That's all I'm asking for. And in return? We'll give you a show like you've never seen before. All the amusement you could ask for." Renn felt sick, knowing what he was condemning himself to. What it would cost him. He'd already seen that cost in Bevan's eyes tonight before the light went out of them. He saw that cost in Flynn's eyes every time his brother looked at him. But if that was the price of keeping his brother alive, Renn would sell his very soul to do so.

"Give them some simple poultices and decent food. Put them in a cage near my tent. I wanna keep an eye on my new pets…my new fighting dogs." The Chieftain ordered, before he repeated the words in Orc and had his guards scrambling to obey. His gaze shifted back to Renn and Flynn then, before he spoke again. "I expect blood on your hands tomorrow, boy…or your brother will decorate my tent. Agreed?"

"I told you…I'll do whatever you want." Renn looked over at his brother and saw the depth of sadness in his eyes at the bargain he had made. He lowered his gaze, hating himself for putting that sadness there. For breaking his brother that little bit more…

**XXDungeons and DragonsXX**

Their new cage wasn't much better than their former one had been, but it did come with a small pile of furs in one corner that would provide them with some warmth from the cold night wind. Flynn was beginning to flag by the time they were pushed into the cage; flailing for purchase and finding Renn by his side, holding him upright.

"Easy, Flynn…I've got you. It's okay."

"Okay? How the hell is this okay, Renn? Do you realise what you've done? What you agreed to?" Flynn demanded as he was lowered down onto the floor of the cage.

Renn didn't answer, flitting about his brother instead, making sure he was comfortable, draping an animal fur over his shoulders for warmth. He crouched down, taking out a small ball of cloth tied with a ribbon. As the ribbon was pulled off, it opened up to expose a herbal poultice that Renn recognised. A brewed mixture of herbs and powders that made a strong smelling paste. He dipped his fingers into the paste. "Lift your shirt."

As Flynn raised up the edge of his shirt, Renn smeared the paste all over the deep gouge across Flynn's stomach. The wound sizzled for a moment, Flynn biting down on his lip to stifle a hiss of pain.

"Sorry…sorry. But better a bit of pain than you getting sick. Let me see your arms next." Renn asked, feeling calmer now that he was doing something to help instead of being a burden.

"Not unless you let me put some of that over your back." Flynn demanded, nodding towards the poultice.

"What? No…I'm fine! There's not a lot here, Flynn and you need it!"

"So I'll be sparing with it. Cause you're not touching me with that stuff again until I've treated your back, Renn. It's that simple." It was obvious from his tone and look that Flynn wasn't going to be swayed otherwise.

Renn sighed and dropped the cloth into Flynn's hands, then turned and sat down beside his brother with his back to him. Flynn's touch was feather light as he smeared what he could of the paste over Renn's back.

"By the Maker, Renn…these are going to leave some wicked scars. " Flynn breathed.

Renn could hear the catch in his brother's voice and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the pain even as he fought against the trembling in his body. "Fuck the Maker…"

"Excuse me?"

Renn pulled away from Flynn and got to his feet. A small pot of warm stew, a half decent chunk of bread and two bowls had been placed just outside the cage, the smell wafting through on the night breeze and making Renn's stomach clench at the mere thought of how hungry he was. He heard his brother's stomach echo with its own rumble a moment later. Dragging the pot and bowls inside, he divided the stew between them, ensuring that Flynn got the lion's share of it. He walked back and sat down across from Flynn, handing him the bowl of food. Renn tore the bread in half and held it out to Flynn. "I've prayed to the Great Maker all my life. Begged him for answers about Mother, begged him to watch over you and Father. Begged him to give Father back to us….to keep you safe. And you know what he's done? Nothing. He took everything from us. He nearly took you away from me today! So fuck the Maker….if he won't look after us? I will."

"Renn…"

"I mean it, Flynn. I could have lost you tonight. I've been stupid and selfish. A stupid scared little kid praying to the Great Maker to save us…cause that's what Father believed in. What the priests always told us. But they were wrong! No one is going to look after us, but us. I get it now. I do. We fight as one, we die as one if we have to. But I won't let that happen. I'm not going to lose you. If the Maker won't keep you safe, I will." Renn said angrily, tearing stinging his eyes as his throat choked up and ached. "I get it now."

Stabbing his bread into his meal, Renn found himself unable to look at Flynn in that moment, worried what he would see, how his brother might judge what he said.

"Okay…"

"What?" Renn looked up in surprise.

"You're right. We're all we have… so…we fight as one. Back to back. I watch out for you and you watch out for me. Fuck the Maker. We watch out for each other." Flynn agreed firmly.

Renn nodded, then pointed to Flynn's bowl. "Eat up, brother…you don't have to share tonight."

He grinned at Flynn, his smile growing as Flynn returned the smile and dived into his own food eagerly. It wasn't the greatest meal they'd ever had, but to Renn it was food from the Great Beyond itself. It would give Flynn his strength back, help his wounds to heal. If spilling blood was the price of keeping his brother alive and by his side, then Renn would pay it.

Because having his brother by his side was everything to him. Nothing else mattered.

******The End ******


End file.
